


Somedays I'm Made Of Stone

by AllHailTheUnderDogs



Series: Some Days [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, M/M, Smut, and a shit ton of therapy, kind of hopeful ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 14:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18013013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHailTheUnderDogs/pseuds/AllHailTheUnderDogs
Summary: Not the fights themselves, those are nothing new. Instead they decide to try and act like a family when he puts a thug in the hospital.Because It’s only ever okay if Klaus is the one getting hurt.-----In which Klaus isn't doing well without Dave and his families attempts to help make it worse.Now with Diego, Klaus can fuck that up all on his own thank you very much.





	Somedays I'm Made Of Stone

**Author's Note:**

> So I started watching The Umbrella Academy 3 days ago with a passing interest. Now after my second rewatch it's safe to say I'm a little bit obsessed, especially with these two amazing beans that deserve everything in the world and then some.
> 
> I've been ridiculously vague with settings and time frame so I hope that nobody minds :)

There’s one thing that Klaus does know.

He doesn’t want to die.

Even when the shredded parts of his sanity piece together in a rough jagged mess, in the rare moments he functions between one hit and the next, he knows this one fact with a burning passion. Because it’s futile, if he dies then there’s no other company than the one spirit he sees now. If he fell before Dave after committing such an act, the brilliant, beautiful soldier would just find a way to kill Klaus again, and he’d manage it, he’s that phenomenal a person.

Of course if Dave wanted an opinion on Klaus’ mortality then he shouldn’t have gone and left Klaus here alone.

Which isn’t fair, but he hasn’t seen the man yet, apart from Ben he’s seen no one from the _mystical beyond_  recently. Even when he’s broken himself from one end of the line to the other, shivering agonising sobriety for weeks on end and black outs so bad Klaus sometimes forgets that the world has colour in it when he comes to. Dave still hasn’t come for him.

Klaus settles himself in the cosy little spot between life and death. Soaks up the torment between hits and yet lingers in the painful present, like if he does it just right it’ll show some penance for his sins. It’ll be enough for the big guy up there to take pity on him and he’ll see his soldier.

There’s a shitty open plan apartment he rents from the money pawned off of his _dearly beloved_  fathers possessions, he sneers whenever Pogo half heartedly questions him. Klaus is stuck rattling around this self imposed prison trying to blitz himself into oblivion.

The night he tries to break the hold Dave’s memories have over him by dragging some random fucker home ends with him crouched under his rusted shower head, biting a scream into the flesh of his skin, broken nails scrabbling along the tiles. Suffice to say he learns that lesson rather quickly.

It's funny, because Klaus has never been cruel. He’s been a selfish bastard, but there’s always been a line in the sand that's never been breached, he’s quite proud of that fact. Now he wants nothing more than to set it on fire.

His siblings have come to respect the change in him, like they ever fucking cared before. Another nasty lie he tells himself, in fact it takes the first big fight he gets into before they react.

Not the fights themselves, those are nothing new. Instead they decide to try and act like a family when he puts a thug in the hospital. It’s only ever okay if Klaus is the one getting hurt.

He wouldn’t have done it normally, content to take the blows and cherish the contusions that litter his body. The fucker took it too far, a large meaty hand brushes the dog tags hanging around his neck and lingers, reaching out to grab the metal.

Klaus explodes.

Allison tries first, a saccharine voice trickles through the locked door and Klaus listens amused as he makes his way through a bottle of whiskey.

Five takes the hint, after hours of his talking is ignored, when Klaus threatens to burn Deloros in a trash can. The boy ticks a brow up at him and snaps away when Klaus starts to describe the act in great detail.

They know better than to send Luther.

Vanya he tries with, the one person who might understand, and she’s kind about it. Doesn’t come with the preprogrammed speech the other two try. So he listens to her and they talk, well he attempts to. She grabs him at the last moment, tightening her arms around his waist and for a split second Klaus can imagine what’ll happen if he reaches through the gap between them and clings onto her like some splintered piece of him wants to.

Ben’s glitching on a good day, these days his brother knows better than to hover over him, and for the first time that he can remember Klaus is glad. Because if he has to see the anguish that’s started to shine through Ben’s frustration then… he doesn’t know what he’ll do.

He thinks he’s safe then, setting himself up in bed to continue his newest objective. How much alcohol can Klaus Hargreeves consume before his liver detonates.

Then there’s a noise like a drum being beaten and Klaus pushes up from his bed, scowling at the intrusion into his hard earned isolation. There’s very few options left at this point, more than likely given the time of ~~night~~  morning, it’s not a savoury type of character. He shrugs on an old gown to give him more dignity than his boxers allow and fumbles for an empty bottle. Flipping it upside down as he stalks towards the front door, swings it open, preparing to crack the glass over the head of whatever assholes trying to mess up his _morning_.

“Alright you fucker-”

There’s a cold line against his neck, a bite that catches when he swallows and a man that Klaus reacts to even when his minds screaming for him to bare his neck.

“Hey Diego.”

Cold eyes greet his plastered on smirk, disapproval radiating from him and Klaus, because he’s shitty, bares his teeth in a mocking manner as he gestures to the knife. The blade pressed against his throat drops abruptly and infuriatingly Klaus catches a flash of shame, like Diego’s on the border of apologising.

Then Klaus is backtracking as the man shoulders his way through the door. “We need to talk.”

No they do not!

If there’s one person left on this shitshow of a planet that Klaus doesn’t want to participate in the joys of conversation with it’s Diego.

The one prick that Klaus both loathes and loves at the same time. Maybe the latter’s faded since they were foolish teenagers fumbling behind closed doors when nobody was looking, at least that’s what they thought. They had so many issues, if things had gone slightly one way or the other then it might have been very different circumstances they found themselves in now. Maybe they’d be in love, or at the very least happily fucking each other blind. But it’s not different, and it’s nothing like the euphoric, giddy, delightful depths of emotion he’d discovered from loving Dave.

So quite frankly Diego can fuck off. Klaus tells him as much.

He misses the days when so little would set the irate man off. Diego has the audacity to rolls his eyes and there’s genuine pity in his gaze that sets Klaus’ blood on fire. He likes it, the burst of energy it gives him, though predictably ice is already forming over and he’s sinking down again.

“You don’t have to talk but at least listen to what I’ve got to say.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll make you.”

Diego's waiting and Klaus realises it’s for one of his jokes to break the silence, a glib observation to roll off his tongue. Klaus has nothing, he’s been empty for a long time now.

So he pretends to listen, watches as Diego paces up and down the room, arms waving at one point, like he’s some flatly written character in a novel. Instead of paying attention Klaus stares vaguely in his direction and waits for him to finish. He does a terrible job when fingers are snapping in front of his face.

“- paying attention to a thing I’ve said, have you?”

He blinks and tries to hurry the inevitable along. “No. You're boring me. Leave.” He makes to push past, eyes setting on the target of his bed when a hand closes on his shoulder and halts him mid step.

“Stop being an idiot and let us help.”

Enough was enough.

“I’ve seen what happens to those who trust you for help. I’m good.”

Seething brown meets lifeless green and for a second Klaus thinks he’s gotten through to the idiot that there’s nothing worth saving here.

“Nobody wants to see you die Klaus. Don’t make me watch that.” Words are spit out between gritted teeth and just before Klaus can deliver another blow that might finally sever this awful conversation, Diego continues, voice unusually soft. “He wouldn’t want this.”

_Fucking bastard._

"Please... don't, if not for.... then..." Diego knows what he's asking of Klaus, the manipulation he's trying to achieve when he breaths out "For me."

Two _awful_ words from special number two. So Klaus punches him twice just to keep up the fucking symmetry.

He knows there’s no way to win the physical confrontation that he begins, there’s a reason he’s four and Diego’s two.

So it surprises neither of them when Klaus is slammed up against his bedroom door, wrists restrained in a bruising grip above his head. Diego doesn’t have the decency to at least pretend he’s out of breath as he looms over him, a trickle of blood trails from his nose and ruins the scowl he’s going for.

For the first time in months Klaus breaks into a smile.

Then before Diego can ruin things by speaking again Klaus is rocking forward and mashing their mouths together. There’s a pause and Klaus is about to pull away when Diego releases his grip and both hands snare around his waist.

For a brief awful moment it’s too slow, too gentle and Klaus feels that constricting pain seize his chest. A sharp bite to his lip pulls him out of it and there’s a grin pressing between their kisses. He takes the opportunity to grip fine hair and pull it, _hard_ , rewarded with a growl that does wonders for Klaus’ hardening cock.

Somehow Klaus is staggering back and Diego’s moving with him, fingers diving under that stupid sweater of his and digging in against the toned muscle of his back. He doesn’t resist when he’s shoved down onto the bed, bouncing as Diego follows him, teeth sinking into the juncture of his neck and Klaus feels the sting travel straight down.

“Stop fucking around.”

It’s not him speaking, the palm of a hand grinds down against the hardness tenting his boxers and a pathetic whine escapes. Klaus doesn’t want the sweet kisses to his chest, or the intimacy of someone gently fucking him through a blissful orgasm. So he rams an elbow into Diego’s chest, uses the space it gives him to twist in his sheets and yank open the drawer of his bedside cabinet, ignoring the condoms and finding what he wants.

Diego’s brow arches up when he catches the lube chucked at him and Klaus almost gains enough energy from the familiar expression to break into another smile. Instead he shucks off his gown and leans back against the covers, hips rising enough to wriggle his boxers down. He looks Diego straight in the eye as he grips his cock and lazily strokes it, dares him on with a shallow moan. Klaus won’t coerce him, that’s not his kink, and if Diego walks away now then fine. He’s always got the shower floor as a backup.

It’s not needed, Diego pulls his sweater off and then he’s there, leaning over Klaus and a hot hand replaces his own. _Fuck_. Klaus lets him have the heated sigh that slips through his defences, a click sounds deafeningly loud in the quiet room.

There’s an uncompromising will in Diego’s gaze as slick fingers slide along his thigh, leaving a cool line over his skin until he glides over Klaus’ hole, tracing the ring of muscle with teasing lightness. Klaus is a breath away from growling his displeasure when two fingers push inside him. They both know it’s been a decent amount of time since he’s done this, Klaus can’t deny it when he’s tightening around Diego’s fingers and choked off whines escape him.

Diego works him open with quick motions like Klaus demands, and it’s never going to be enough, not when he knows what Diego’s packing under those briefs as he eyes the outline with a kindling hunger. Old Klaus might have snarked about who was really number one. Old Diego would have given him a bemused, grateful grin.

Now Klaus wants nothing more from than a fuck that’ll blot the grief out for a few hours. Fuck, he’d take a few minutes these days. 

Diego stares with blown out pupils as he drizzles lube over Klaus’ ass and then liberally coats his dick with a generous amount- it says something that Klaus can’t remember when he’d taken his jeans off. He uses his distraction to surge forward, the surprise allowing him to roll Diego onto his back and sling a leg over to straddle him. When there’s no comment Klaus guides heated flesh towards him and then with a measured breath lowers himself down.

There’s been a major fuck up on his behalf, or he needs his fucking eyes checked. Diego’s dick breaches that still too tight muscle and Klaus takes quick breaths through his nose. He likes the sting and burn as much as the next guy, but this is just that side of too painful and for all his blustering Klaus doesn’t get his rocks off to getting fucked up.

He’s never been one to fuck in the dark, call it PTSD, call it a sick gratification he gets when he watches his partners fall apart underneath him.

The problem is that he can’t hide anything under the glaring light shining over them.

“Do you want some help?” It’s horrifically gentle and Klaus can’t hide the blurry quality his vision takes on, he snarls angrily in response.

“Shut the fuck up!” He grits his teeth and lets his nails scrape against bare skin. Diego does as he’s told, but then he also rocks his hips up and sinks Klaus down in one slow motion.

There’s wet kisses to his neck and soothing hands run along his spine, and Klaus fucking relishes it for the briefest of moments. The combination of kind gestures and the glorious pressure filling him has Klaus slumping forward and Diego holds him like he’s worth something while he shudders and whimpers.

The outline of his dog tags between their sweaty skin kicks Klaus’ brain into gear and he wrenches back, schools his features into indifference even when Diego’s dick presses against the spot inside him that sends pleasure curling through his body.

Diego’s _hurt_ expression hits him in the gut, before Klaus pulls away from this mistake of a fuck, the man closes off to him. He’s greeted by the same disdainful sneer that Luther used to have the sole privilege of receiving, which is the best for both of them.

Diego’s hands grip his hip with a bruising strength, stopping his attempts to move, and then he thrusts up- _hard _.__  Starting up a rhythm that’s both punishing and overwhelming, it’s too much and all he could ask for. His toes curl as Diego’s dick drags back until he’s nearly empty and then fills him up until he’s writhing and his cock bounces against his stomach with each thrum of pleasure that races up his spine. He bites back a bitter laugh, Diego's hips slam forward, fingers digging bruises into his skin like if he fucks him hard enough he'll blur the lines until Klaus fades into another. Klaus can't complain when he’s doing the same. He wants it to hurt, to feel this ache for days to come, until there’s nothing left.

Except Diego slows down, rolling his hips so Klaus rides his dick in a slow grind that sparks something electric scorching through his veins. “I won’t leave you Klaus.” There’s a disgusting level of sincerity in Diego’s words and for a blinding moment Klaus can picture what might happen if he lets himself believe, if he places his bets on Diego and pushes himself through the weight that’s held him down.

What a nice fantasy.

“Don’t mess this up Diego.”

It's ridiculous that Klaus has to remind him where this began, he rises and falls with heaving breaths and trembling legs, fingers reaching out and digging in with a vicious scraping pressure down the man's torso. He smirks at the blood welling from his touch. He doesn't predict Diego's hands reaching out to grip his shoulder and waist, simultaneously pulling him down in a short, sharp motion and slamming his hips up. Reaching that perfect spot but also spearing into him in a possessive claim of Klaus' body. Then the fucker decides that he's done listening to Klaus’ shit because those deceptively strong arms are guiding him through powerful thrusts and fuck if Klaus doesn't want to let the idiot ruin him.

His orgasm hit’s and there’s nothing that Klaus can do to stop the pathetic sob he lets out as he throws his head back and coats the sheets and the man below him in cum. Diego fucks him through it with thrusts so hard the bed frame smacks against the crumbling wall, supporting Klaus as he goes boneless. He’s pulled down for a searing kiss and he’s sighing against the tongue that traces the seam of his lips, the sound has Diego coming, fucking him through it in lazy strokes.

It takes far too long for Klaus to gather himself together again, there’s the temptation that Diego’s hold has on him, open mouthed kisses pressing over his shoulder and the tranquil motion of the chest beneath his cheek. It’s when he hears a contented sound above him that Klaus manages to push away, wincing as Diego slips out of him and there’s, what was once a long time ago embarrassing, trickles of cum rolling down his thighs as he falls back towards the end of the bed.

“Klaus-”

Diego reaches towards him slowly, like he’s some scared fucking animal. There’s that line, scuffed and worn down, and Klaus knows with a startling clarity that if he accepts this gesture, grabs onto it with shivering hands, then he can rebuild himself. Never back to what he'd been before, there’s none of that Klaus left, but Diego and him could have a chance.

Diego's willing to try for him and young Klaus would adore him for this kindness. Even now there’s a flutter of something under that lethargic blanket that wants to take hold of the man in front of him and never let go.

But he cant be selfish. He’d pull Diego down because he’s just not ready to let go of Dave, and if he goes with the man in front of him now then that’s the first step towards healing. Diego doesn’t deserve to drown alongside him. So Klaus plasters on a sick smile as he gestures crudely over his brothers body. “Good fuck. Six out of ten, would be higher but you don’t shut the _fuck_ up.”

Diego flinches and Klaus knows that he’s caught him at a vulnerable low if that hits somewhere deep. Somehow Diego’s still offering Klaus his hand.

Steeling himself Klaus sinks the figurative knife in as he leans forward, taps a finger against the tan skin of Diego’s chest and lies through his teeth. “Was it around here that she was shot? I can’t remember, I left her when she was trying to save my life. Stupid bitch.” Diego’s shaking but Klaus can see in those loyal fucking eyes that it’s not enough.

Klaus feels that hopeful piece inside him incinerate as he twists the blade and whispers out “I wonder how she felt dying alone on some filthy motel room floor, nobody caring enough to be there with her as she faded away. Do you think that she whispered your name before-”

His jaw snaps shut with a click as a punch sends him spiralling to the floor, blinking through the haze focuses him on Diego mostly dressed and Klaus savours the image. Until that fucking idiot pauses to look down at him, opens his mouth, freezes, and then swears violently. Klaus watches from the ground as the last person to show him a speck of affection snarls and walks away.

When Klaus finally gets up, staggers to the bathroom and throws up until his stomach torrefies it’s not the alcohol that does it.

He prays for the first time since his soldier left him.

 

* * *

 

There’s a gap in Klaus’ memory from that night to now, alcohol and god knows what else he’s pumped into his system over the years combine into a lethal cocktail that would have killed a better man.

Thank fuck he’s a bastard.

He finds the large envelope posted through the door as he’s routing around trying to find his phone, or more specifically trying to find the dealers number. It’s a good dealer, one that Klaus has become close to, or at least as close as he can get to someone who grins like a shark scenting prey whenever Klaus pathetically meets him.

Klaus stares at the package, shifting it over in his hands and trying to judge what the actual weight of the fucking thing is. Unable to do much else he tips out the contents and a phone lands in his palm, Klaus stares at the device like it’s a foreign entity, compares it to the one he’s just found under a pile of empty takeout cartons. He can’t help but wonder whether there’s actually some bearded old bastard looking down at him and enjoying Klaus’ shitshow of a life.

When he scrolls through the contacts and finds one name it’s clear that instead of some fictional deity, Klaus is being tormented by something a lot worse.

Diego.

Stubborn fucking prick.

Klaus laughs, a broken sound that razes his throat and takes too much to sustain. He does it again.

He should crack the phone and send it back in a box with a picture of his middle finger, call his damn dealer and fuck himself up on the worst drugs the guy has. Stick to his resolution and keep Diego out of this fucked up mess he created and wallows in. 

Klaus stares between the two phones, pulls his arm back and blindly throws the one he doesn’t need across the room, finds the number that he wants, mouth dry as it dials. He tries not to rock back and forth on the bed too much, stilling when a familiar voice answers.

“Hey Klaus.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading to the end <3 It's my first time writing a smut fic and I hope that it was enjoyable :)
> 
> I was planning to leave it without that last part but I couldn't cope without having at least a 50/50 option that Klaus gets a chance to have the support he needs. I've written so much stuff based of either scenario so if that sounds any good please let me know :) <3


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